


Extra Ingredient

by PunishedPyotr



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Awkwardness, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, mistaken for wet dreams, reupload, stammering, which turns into consensual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: Ocelot drugs Liquid for work reasons, doesn't bother resisting temptation, and Liquid misreads the entire situation.





	Extra Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

  * For [corpsefluid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corpsefluid/gifts).



> [Join my discord server. We got shitposting and degeneracy.](https://discord.gg/HrDf3QK)

By and large, everyone in FOXHOUND trusted Ocelot.

Wolf certainly did, and was in fact rather fond of him (perhaps to be expected, considering she’d been around him more or less consistently since she was about nine and got picked up by V) even if she didn’t approve of his gorier hobbies. He and Raven didn’t particularly get along (too many jokes and snide remarks at the expense of one another’s ethnicity) but they’d known each other for a while and Raven only thought of him as an asshole, not a potential backstabber. Octopus was preternaturally good at reading people (of course he had to be, if he wanted to perfectly imitate someone’s personality and mannerisms), but was a little too confident in his abilities, believing himself to be better at reading people than Ocelot was at getting people to misread him; he never picked up anything less than complete loyalty to his unit from Ocelot. And of course Liquid trusted him, in spite of the initial “You knew me when I was twelve and I’m fully aware that I still act like a twelve-year-old and don’t want anyone else to realize that” hostility. It really hadn’t taken Ocelot that _long_ to get Liquid to warm up to him once he’d joined FOXHOUND.

The insect in the ointment was Mantis. Even aside from mutual baggage from the KGB when Mantis had been a teenager, Liquid’s pet psychic had an irritating habit of assuming the worst of anyone whose mind he couldn’t read. And he couldn’t read Ocelot’s mind. It wasn’t even that he had those increasingly-popular ’psychic shielding’ cybernetic implants, either — it was entirely natural, an inherent trait of his. Ocelot generally credited it to genetics, although he wasn’t sure if it came from the “spirit medium” or “literally the world’s greatest soldier ever” side of the family. But the point was that Mantis didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, and not infrequently threw some rather impressive tantrums about how nobody in FOXHOUND had any business trusting Ocelot with a pet rock, let alone lives and top-secret information.

This wouldn’t even be a _problem_ , normally. Mantis never had anything approaching proof and the rest of FOXHOUND was entirely used to and completely dismissive of his histrionics. The issue was that he and Liquid were extremely close, which meant that Liquid kind of had to listen to him, even if he didn’t believe him. (Which wasn’t to say he thought Mantis was lying. Just that he’d convinced himself that Ocelot was a turncoat to rationalize his supposedly baseless mistrust of him.)

But then Mantis managed to catch Ocelot on the phone with Solidus. He hadn’t heard anything remotely incriminating or revealing, of course - Ocelot had _known_ he was eavesdropping - but he pitched such an incredible fit over it to poor, henpecked Liquid that the boss agreed to keep a closer eye on Ocelot, at least for a little while, to soothe Mantis’ anxieties.

So that wasn’t good.

After that Ocelot’s comings and goings were frequently questioned, and Liquid kept pestering him about unidentified items on his invoices. Any time Ocelot left headquarters, whether it was on an official FOXHOUND assignment or on a personal excursion, Liquid asked for - and expected! - an extra-detailed report of where he’d been, how he got there, what he’d done, who he’d spoken to… it was all highly annoying. Not that Ocelot couldn’t keep the scam going, of course, but he had enough on his plate _already_ without having to weave a delicate web of lies to get around Liquid’s careful, mildly skeptical observation.

Fortunately Ocelot had already set up a contingency plan - and it started with the fact that he had, many months back, gotten Liquid entirely used to him dropping by to give him fresh cups of tea to drink while he was doing paperwork. Ocelot knew Liquid’s favorite type (black tea, Earl Grey) and brand (Twinings), and exactly how much milk he liked in it. And how much sedative he needed to dissolve in there in order to take out Liquid, considering his weight, metabolism, and natural (engineered) resistance to tranquilizers.

_Convenient naps_ , Ocelot called them.

Liquid was swamped in paperwork he’d been procrastinating on when Ocelot placed the cup of tea on his desk, and didn’t even look up from the form he was going over as he mumbled “Thank you, Ocelot” inattentively and reached for the tea. The soporifics took affect as instantly as they could by being ingested; after the first few sips, Liquid was out like a light, slumping over his desk before Ocelot had finished leaving his office.

Ocelot walked back over to Liquid’s desk and stared down at him. Liquid’s lips were slightly parted, so Ocelot briefly considered tugging the paper he was lying on out from under him so he wouldn’t drool all over it, but decided it didn’t matter much. His eyes drifted over to the cup of tea; with how quickly he went down, Ocelot would have expected Liquid to knock it over, yet here it stood.

For no particular reason, Ocelot batted it off the desk and onto the floor, then jangled his way out of the room, whistling. Free to do as he liked for the next four or five hours without Liquid breathing down his neck… finally.

Time to get back to work.

* * *

Liquid had no reason to suspect he was being drugged, so he figured that his impromptu desk naps and forgetfulness were symptoms of stress and not sleeping well enough at night, and didn’t worry too much about them. The lingering sedatives in his system did make him rather lethargic for a while after he woke up, so when he gave up on paperwork for the day and left his office to be with the others but was generally quiet and docile, the rest of FOXHOUND just tacitly chalked it up to him having a depressive episode - even Mantis, who honestly _should_ know better but Ocelot knew full well that that man had his head up his own ass so really, he wasn’t surprised. And it was true that sleepily withdrawing into himself was Liquid’s primary symptom during a depressive episode anyway.

Besides, Ocelot didn’t drug him _every_ day - didn’t need to. Just every so often, so he could slip away unnoticed, or perhaps forge Liquid’s signature on a few forms, make appropriate modifications to others, and take a couple phone calls from the privacy of Liquid’s office, completely unbothered by the passed-out clone draped over the desk and snoring softly, occasionally murmuring something incoherent in his sleep.

He was… actually kind of cute in his sleep. Wore an expression of calmness that he rarely, if ever, had while awake. He looked so… vulnerable.

It was really quite tempting.

Fortunately Ocelot was good at resisting temptation. At least, when it mattered. And he could decide if it mattered or not in this situation later, when he wasn’t so busy.

Three weeks into Liquid’s “Keep an eye on Ocelot so Mantis will finally shut up about him” plan and Ocelot’s “Spike Liquid’s tea so he won’t bother me while I’m setting up for my sudden but inevitable betrayal” scheme, the drugs stopped taking effect so quickly. Not in the sense that Liquid had to finish his whole cup of tea before they’d kick in now - he’d reached that point last week - but in the sense that Liquid would finish his tea and there’d be a brief period where he was technically awake but really, really drowsy.

_He must be building a resistance_ , Ocelot thought as Liquid blinked at him blearily, rubbing one eye. _I need to start putting more in… hopefully he won’t notice the taste, he doesn’t exactly have a refined palate_.

“Ocelot,” Liquid said, his voice slurring a bit, “I feel… weird…”

“You’re just tired, boss.”

“Oh… of course, I am… I’m… tired……”

Okay, _now_ he was asleep. But yes, Ocelot definitely needed to up his dosage next time he brought him some sleepy-time tea. For now he just tugged Liquid’s paperwork out from under him and busied himself with that.

…although Liquid’s warm, slow breath ruffling his sleeve where he had his hand resting next to Liquid’s head was a mite distracting. Ocelot moved his arm away, glancing at Liquid. He really did look very peaceful while he slept. And his hair had fallen over his right eye — Ocelot wasn’t sure if it underscored his similarities to or his differences from his father.

Liquid wouldn’t wake for anything short of chopping off his arm right now.

Ocelot turned away again, shaking his head. _Later_ , he chided himself.

Liquid’s dose of tranquilizers was upped, but he quickly adjusted to that, still oblivious to the extra ingredient in his tea even if he _was_ starting to get a _little_ uneasy about how often he seemed to forget filling out or signing such-and-such a form. Wolf told him that he probably didn’t remember because it was right before his nap and he’d been half-asleep, but that just made Liquid bothered by the idea of doing paperwork while too tired to think. If he did that, sooner or later he was going to make mistakes, and that would mean that at best he’d have to redo it and at worst he’d get saddled with _more paperwork_. Or possibly fired by the Army brass that held FOXHOUND’s leash. At least he didn’t really think it was possible to fuck up on _paperwork_ so badly that he lost his job, though.

Ocelot had to bite his tongue when he set Liquid’s cup of tea down on his desk and Liquid eyed it and asked, “You don’t think I keep falling asleep because I’m drinking tea while working, do you?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe it relaxes me too much. Or perhaps I need something with more caffeine in it.”

“Black tea’s one of the most caffeinated kinds of tea already, boss. Should I bring you coffee instead?”

“No, I don’t really like coffee,” Liquid said, taking his cup and raising his eyebrows at Ocelot over the rim of it. “I know! You could dissolve a caffeine pill in it. That might work.”

“You don’t think dissolving a pill in your tea would affect the taste?”

“Oh… just add a little bit more milk.” He waved Ocelot off.

Ocelot gave him about ten minutes to finish his cup, then walked back into his office. Liquid was lying across his desk, using one arm as a pillow, his eyes half-closed. He was in the process of nodding off.

“Have a nice nap, boss,” Ocelot said, picking some papers off his desk and rifling through them. (Liquid could never remember anything that happened in this semi-conscious state.) “See you in a few hours.”

“Maybe…” Liquid mumbled, “maybe I… am getting so tired because… the tea…”

“Mm.”

“No… it’s not… not… normal… Ocelot…? What did you… do to my…?”

Ocelot ignored him, focusing more on editing his invoices.

Liquid tried to push himself off the desk, hissing, but slumped over like his whole body was just dead weight. “This is _your_ fault,” he slurred, “ _you_ did this… you drugged me, Ocelot… you put… in my tea… Ocelot……”

Ocelot spared him a glance as he succumbed to sleep. Yeesh. He wouldn’t remember coming to that conclusion at all, but nonetheless Ocelot figured he’d give him some more sedatives again just to be on the safe side. Soon he’d be able to switch types of soporific entirely, to a much stronger one… although he was already using a triple dose of a kind that would keep an _average_ man knocked out for a full 24 hours…

Liquid assumed that the extra milk in his tea the next day was to cover for a caffeine pill when it was, in reality, even more tranquilizers. He didn’t hurl any drowsy accusations at Ocelot this time, just drifted off without complaint, murmuring something about how he just seemed to have no energy anymore and maybe he should ask someone on the medical staff about that one of these days.

This time Ocelot didn’t bother to stop himself from reaching back and brushing the back of his hand across Liquid’s cheek. He could feel his warmth through his glove, and those parted lips of his looked terribly inviting.

_I shouldn’t_ , he told himself. But he was never sincere when he did that.

Liquid offered no resistance whatsoever as Ocelot manhandled him, flipping him over and pushing him up so that his back was on the desk, the edge of it digging into his lower back, not that he could feel it right now. Without Ocelot holding him he would have just slipped to the floor, but enough of his weight was on the desk that holding him up was just a matter of keeping him still. Glancing up at the office door - which he’d locked when he returned to the room after Liquid finished his tea, not that that would stop really anyone in the unit - Ocelot started matter-of-factly unbuttoning Liquid’s coat. He had a little time to spare before his expected phone call came in, after all.

Pulling Liquid’s coat open, Ocelot saw (very much to his lack of surprise) that Liquid hadn’t been wearing a shirt underneath it. (He always wondered if that chafed, or what…) That just made things easier for Ocelot, though.

He was sure that his expression was only one of dismissive curiosity as he ran his hands over Liquid’s chest and stomach, feeling his muscles. Curiosity wasn’t quite the right word, though - Liquid was a good deal leaner than Big Boss, but nonetheless Ocelot knew that body well - and even if it were, it certainly couldn’t be called dismissive. To be perfectly honest, Ocelot had been kind of waiting for an opportunity to feel Liquid up for quite some time — it was just that their age gap made Liquid rather unreceptive to any subtle or not-so-subtle advances Ocelot ever made. (Or perhaps Liquid was really just that dense.)

Ocelot let his hands slip lower. Nice thighs, not much to write home about in the ass department - he dipped a hand under Liquid’s belt, giving his cock a nice grope just to get a feel for it before letting it alone. No need to go _that_ far. Instead he returned to Liquid’s pecs, gliding a thumb over a faded scar before allowing himself to be distracted by his nipples.

Rubbing and tugging at his nips actually did manage to garner a response outside of continued almost-silent snoring — not only did they stiffen under his touch, but Liquid’s fingers twitched and he let out a little breathy sound, not quite a moan. After another few moments he mumbled something that Ocelot didn’t lean close enough to hear in time to catch anything other than a “…good…”

Ocelot was about to give into the temptation to put his mouth on him when his cell phone rang. He frowned, then stepped back, picking up the call. “Hello, sir.”

“Ocelot. Everything alright? You sound irritated, am I interrupting something?”

Solidus sounded marginally sarcastic and either way Ocelot wasn’t going to tell him that he had, in fact, interrupted him molesting his unconscious older brother. “No, sir,” Ocelot said, cradling the phone in the crook of his shoulder as he tugged Liquid’s coat back into place and started buttoning him back up. “So, about what you were saying the other day…”

* * *

Well, maybe he was a little bit of a bastard for doing it, but Ocelot switched out Liquid’s tranquilizers for the stronger sort, the ones that were ordinarily used for medically induced comas. Just because of the extremely high dose of the last kind he’d been fed, the effect on Liquid was that it put him down about 45 minutes to an hour longer — long enough for Ocelot to do his business _and_ spend some quality time with his sedated boss.

Of course he was _careful_. He didn’t leave any evidence - he always cleaned up after himself, put Liquid’s clothes back in order and stuck him back in his chair, and any and all penetration stopped at Ocelot’s fingers or tongue in Liquid’s mouth. Besides, even if it weren’t for the fact that Liquid would figure out _afterwards_ that he’d been fucked in his sleep, something that intense might wake him in the middle.

He’d had enough brushes with that as it was. Deprived of other ways to do it and quickly growing bored with just touching Liquid while masturbating, Ocelot fell into things like intergluteal sex and frottage — which, due to the simple nature of rubbing himself against Liquid’s crotch, would wring certain reactions out of Liquid, despite the drugs in his system. Tiny twitches and murmurings were normal no matter what Ocelot was doing; frottage would get him hard, or at least half-hard.

Sometimes (not always, but sometimes) Liquid would even manage to reach an orgasm in his sleep, which gave Ocelot an extra mess to clean up and would always cause Liquid to regain enough consciousness to blink hazily up at Ocelot and mutter something incoherent before being easily coaxed back to slumber. And he never remembered any of it.

…more or less. It was true that Liquid had spent his waking hours increasingly self-conscious and jumpy, which he refused to explain to anyone, but… since Mantis considered himself entitled to every thought in Liquid’s head, Ocelot figured that if Liquid knew (or at least suspected) that one of his subordinates was drugging and sexually assaulting him then Ocelot would have found himself psychokinetically eviscerated some time ago. What exactly _was_ bothering Liquid was, for now, more or less unknown — he was _extra_ evasive about it around Ocelot, which did provide a clue or two.

Ocelot finally got his answer when he walked in Liquid’s office with a cup of tea and Liquid was, unbelievably, using his Army-issued laptop that he _never_ used (because he didn’t know _how_ to use). As soon as Ocelot opened the door, Liquid’s eyes went wide and he slammed the computer shut, which put to rest any ideas Ocelot might have had that whatever he was doing on the computer was work-related.

“Finally learning how to use the computer, boss?” Ocelot said, putting down his tea.

“Erm, yes,” Liquid said, immediately grabbing it and taking a nervous gulp, “thought it really might be useful after all… with, ah, the paperwork, I mean, of course. I-I’m just figuring out how to use the keyboard with more than one finger, that’s all.”

One-fingered typing? That sounded painful to just watch. Liquid shooed Ocelot back out of his office. He was back again in fifteen minutes, and went straight for the laptop.

It wasn’t password protected because Liquid didn’t know how to set a password, so as soon as Ocelot had it open he found the web browser up — Liquid had been searching something on Yahoo!:

_NOrmal to get wet dreams age 31/?_

Oh. Oh ho _ho_. So _that’s_ what all his sudden shyness has been all about. And he _was_ remembering, in some way, what Ocelot was doing to him - only he was unable to distinguish it from a dream, and/or he did in fact dream while tranquilized, and Ocelot’s actions caused those dreams to take a rather steamy turn.

(Frankly, even if it were the latter, Ocelot was surprised that Mantis didn’t blame him for that and try to eviscerate him anyway. Perhaps Liquid’s dreams were not actually about Ocelot himself, and just starred whatever fill-in-the-blank person he had a crush on this week doing what Ocelot was doing to him. Or maybe Liquid was already talked to Mantis about this and ordered him not to cause a scene, for the sake of his fragile ego.)

Whatever Liquid’s take on all this was, it really didn’t matter to Ocelot so long as he remained oblivious to what was being done with his unconscious, deliciously yielding body every other day. So things continued just like they had before.

But, of course, Liquid was a man who’d always try to take matters into his own hands (whether or not he really should), so one night he confronted Ocelot — or rather, beckoned him into his private quarters while no one was looking and told him to lock the door behind him.

“What is this about, boss?” Ocelot said, “is something the matter?”

“Oh, something’s the matter alright, it’s— it’s just- rather personal.”

“And it has something to do with me?”

“After a fashion,” Liquid said, blushing.

Ocelot raised his eyebrows, but stayed silent, gesturing for Liquid to go on like he didn’t already know exactly where this was going.

“I, ah…” Liquid fidgeted where he stood. “Well… so, it’s like this…”

“Spit it out, boss.”

Liquid glared at him, but did his best to continue. “It’s just that I keep— I keep having these _dreams_ about you, Ocelot.”

“And…?”

“A really… really unfortunate amount of dreams about you, and I don’t like it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Ocelot said, cocking his head. “It’s perfectly normal to dream about people you know, especially if you see them everyday.”

Liquid’s blush deepened, and he looked at his feet, fidgeting again. “Er… you’re not wrong, but… that’s referring to…” he lowered his voice, “ _normal_ dreams.”

“You mean to say you haven’t been having ‘normal’ dreams about me?”

“Shh! Not so loud!”

“No one can hear us from in here, boss.”

Liquid sighed and started pacing around, gesturing frenetically as he spoke. “The truth is, Ocelot, I’ve been having… well, I know it was _ages_ ago for you but you know how when you’re going through puberty, you sometimes have these _dreams_ that are sort of… sort of _intense_ , and then when you wake up you’re all _sticky_ and your bedmate is all angry with you because you made him uncomfortable and he doesn’t think you really can’t help what you- nevermind, I suppose the latter part really only applies to me. But the point is… er, I-I always thought that those sorts of dreams _stopped_ when you reached a certain age because _honestly_ I haven’t had one- one like that, anyway, the kind that’s just… you know, plain, ah… a-arousal— anyway I hadn’t one since I was still in my mid-teens so I thought I didn’t have to deal with that anymore except now I-I’m having dreams like that again even though I’m an adult and for some reason I don’t know in the dream it’s always _you_.”

The entire second half of his spiel came out in a rush, and then he suddenly stopped and buried his face in his hands, mortified. Ocelot had only watched impassively the entire time, but now he cracked a smile.

“Really, boss? How flattering.”

“Don’t think it’s because I’m attracted to you, because I’m not,” Liquid snapped, glaring at him. “I don’t know _why_ it’s always you, because I think you’re gross and too old for me and I really don’t think I’d like the feel of your mustache on my skin-“ Okay this was getting oddly specific, maybe he _had_ picked up on more of Ocelot’s advances than Ocelot had initially thought — “but I just can’t stop dreaming about it and it’s driving me crazy and- and— and I want _you_ to take responsibility for it!”

Ocelot blinked, as if he were surprised. “How am I supposed to take responsibility for something your subconscious does on its own? I have nothing to do with what you dream, boss.”

“I-I don’t want to have these dreams anymore! So I think that- that I’d stop dreaming about this if you’d— er- if you’d…”

“…”

“…”

“Go on, boss.”

Liquid looked at the floor again, scowling, face red. “Do I really have to spell it out?”

“Can you imagine how disastrous it would be if I misinterpreted you here, now?”

Liquid dug the toe of his boot into the carpet for a moment before mumbling, “I think I’d stop having these dreams if y-you’d… if you’d have— h-h-have s-sex… with m-me.”

For a moment there was silence, then Liquid hid his face in his hands again, body tense. Ocelot let out a low chuckle and sat down on Liquid’s bed - making sure to do it loudly enough that Liquid would know he did that - then said, “I’m always happy to do you a favor, boss.”

“Of course,” Liquid said, and how embarrassed he was didn’t have any effect on how sarcastic he could be. “You’ve probably been waiting for me to offer myself to you since I was _twelve_.”

“Don’t- why does everyone think I’m a hebephile? This is ridiculous.”

“Er— I didn’t mean-“ Oh, how cute. Liquid thought Ocelot might decline sex with him if he got offended. And that he could offend Ocelot in the first place. “Ah…”

“Come sit, boss.”

Telegraphing almost nothing but reluctance, Liquid sat down next to Ocelot and looked down again, pressing his hands between his knees.

“Nervous?” Ocelot said, putting a hand on Liquid’s leg.

“N-No! Of course not. Why should I be nervous? Th-this isn’t my first time!!”

Sure. Ocelot totally believed that. “Why don’t you start by telling me about your dreams?”

“Huh…?”

“In as much detail as possible. Make it as explicit as you can… get us both in the mood.”

Liquid blinked at him, then glanced away again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “A-Alright,” he said at length, “so… i-it only seems to happen when I fall asleep on my desk a-and…”

“How do you feel when you wake up?” This was important.

“Hm? Oh… well, still a little out of it for a while, and most of the time I’ve just… I’ve just got a really horrible case of blue balls, but sometimes I get the feeling I, erm, _you know_ …” he frowned. “Except I never find spunk in my underwear like I’d expect to…”

“It could just be dry orgasms, boss. Perfectly normal.”

“Oh, they are?” Liquid said in obvious relief.

“Mhm. And my apologies for interrupting you.” He started rubbing his thigh. “Go on.”

“A-Ah… right… so… I’m asleep at my desk, so it’s probably just completely natural that the dreams always t-take place in my office, then… so, y-you’ll come into my office and, oh… I… it’s sort of hard to remember all the details of a dream…”

“That’s alright. Just tell me what you do remember.”

“Ha… w-well, somehow or another I’m always… I always end up sort of l-lying on my desk, or pushed onto my desk a-and the edge of it is sort of digging into me b-but I don’t really notice that because y-y-you’re there, O-Ocelot, r-right above me and looking down at me… a-and you’ve got this f-funny look in your eyes that I really only s-see when you’re interrogating people…”

“And?” Ocelot said, starting to move his hand up towards Liquid’s groin. “How does that make you feel?”

“A… a little… truthfully, I f-feel a little frightened,” Liquid said, staring at the wall, “like things are r-really out of my control, and you’re th-the one who has all the power there and I d-don’t get a say in anything that happens…”

“So I can just do whatever I like with you?” He shifted closer to Liquid.

Liquid nodded. “I-I don’t like being out of control, really, I don’t— I l- _like_ having a say in what I do or what happens to me. But in the d-dream, when you’re looking down at me like that… I’m nervous, b-but I’m alright. It’s sort of… I c-can’t move. It’s really strange, but… it’s sort of…”

Ocelot started kissing his neck and jaw.

“…sort of h-hot. Being underneath you like that… a-ah!” He jumped as Ocelot fondled his crotch, massaging his dick through his pants. “O-Ocelot, that’s—“

“Does it feel good, boss?”

“…y-yes…”

“Then let me do it and keep going. So I’ve got you pressed against the desk?”

“Uh— uh-huh. And I want to squirm but my body feels very h-heavy. Y-You start taking off my coat…”

Liquid wasn’t wearing his coat at the moment, and shirts continued to be a foreign concept to the man, so Ocelot settled for undoing his pants. Liquid shifted on the bed, biting his lip.

“Th-then you… you r-run your hands all o-over my body… u-up and down my sides, my ribs, and you f-feel up my chest… you… m-my n… nn…”

With his other hand Ocelot was following along Liquid’s description, gliding his hand up Liquid’s skin until he reached a nipple, which he pinched - lightly at first, then hard enough for Liquid to tilt his head back with a breathy whine.

“A-Ahh… l-like that…”

“Just like that?”

“Y-Y-Yes… and y-you must like h-how I react to all th-that, because you s-start to get h-hard and— and I th-think maybe you’re playing w-with yourself, I don’t really know, b-but it’s all s-sort of exciting, the w-way you t-touch me, and I s-start to… start to f-feel _good_ , and… o-oh, Ocelot—“

Ocelot pushed him back so that he was lying on the bed, and while Liquid did grip the sheets somewhat anxiously, he also parted his legs enough for Ocelot to settle between them and lean over him, stilling kissing and biting at his neck, trailing down to his collarbones now, and still rubbing at his crotch — Liquid’s dick twitched under his stroking, slowly rising and stiffening even as Liquid squirmed uncomfortably.

“So th-then you… you start t-to… mhh!”

“Go on.”

“Y-You… you s-start to… to, ah, r-rub yourself u-up against me l-like a c-cat in heat…”

Ocelot grabbed his hips and jerked him down so that his crotch was flush against his - Liquid gasped - and rolled his hips. “You know, boss,” Ocelot said, leaning down again to bite his collarbone, “I think it’d be more accurate to say _you’re_ the one in heat here.”

“H-Ha ha. Very f-funny, Ocelot, y- _you’re_ hard _t_ - _too_.”

“I’m not the one blushing and stammering.”

“Ggkh… I… I c-can’t help that…!”

Liquid moaned, bucking his hips up against Ocelot. Ocelot considered his options. Liquid seemed to want to go for frottage but Ocelot was definitely more interested in the possibility of doing something that he couldn’t do while Liquid was asleep… something that Liquid would still be feeling later. “Boss, do you have any lube?”

“H-Huh?”

“Lube. Lubrication. Do you have any?”

“A-Ah, um, I d-do have some… i-in my drawer…”

Yeah, and judging by the lack of condoms he probably just had it for jacking off. Honestly. Nonetheless Ocelot yanked the drawer open and grabbed it, then pulled off his gloves. Liquid bucked his hips up against Ocelot rather impatiently.

Liquid froze up completely when Ocelot slicked his fingers (going with the bare minimum, even though it wasn’t impossible Liquid would know better) and shoved them in Liquid’s ass, none too gently, two to begin with. “Gh- hh— o-ow, Ocelot—!”

“Problem, boss?”

“D-Don’t… in s-such a rush! W-We’ve got all n-night.”

“Hm.”

Ocelot stretched him indelicately, mouth at his neck and free hand playing with his nipple, and Liquid panted and writhed underneath him, occasionally making half-hearted protests about how rough Ocelot was being. At least the man had the good sense to relax his muscles. Made things a hell of a lot easier.

Ocelot _probably_ had gotten him suitably prepared when he pulled his fingers out and _probably_ put enough lube on his own cock after his fishing it out of his pants and _probably_ gave Liquid enough time to adjust once he got it in before he started to move. Hell, those high-pitched whimpers Liquid was making could have meant _anything_ , they weren’t _necessarily_ pained (not that Ocelot would be complaining if they were). Either way, though, Liquid wasn’t outright objecting to the treatment and Ocelot’s shirt and vest were getting all soaked through and slick where Liquid’s cock was pressed up against them.

“O-Oce… Ocelot…!! Ah, g-god!”

“You like that, boss?”

“Y— o-oh! oh…! Y-Yes, Ocelot! I… I l- _love_ this… kk- keep going-!”

The way Liquid kept his eyes determinedly shut wasn’t particularly flattering, but Ocelot found being _inside him_ was _so_ much better than just thrusting between his asscheeks until he got off. He was so tight and hot, and whorishly desperate — too bad he didn't look more like his father, but close enough was good enough…

“O-Oh _Christ_ Ocelot, I’m g-going t-t-to—!!”

After they were done and Ocelot had gotten off the bed to mop himself up and put his clothing back in order, Liquid sprawled out over the mattress and stared up at the ceiling blankly.

“Well,” he said, still a little breathless, “at least I can stop thinking about it now.”

“Mm,” Ocelot replied, largely ignoring him.

“…Mantis is going to kill me.”

And that explained why he hadn’t gotten laid since at _least_ when he’d come to FOXHOUND. Ah well. It was none of Ocelot’s business. And if Mantis was too busy being angry about Liquid sleeping with Ocelot, then Liquid would have no reason to continue observing Ocelot so closely. Things could go back to normal, and Liquid wouldn’t have to take convenient naps anymore.

Ocelot would lose his chance to take advantage of his unconsciousness.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Liquid, who was still mostly naked and still staring at the ceiling. Hmm… giving him a proper fuck had been _loads_ better than humping him over his desk. The fact that Liquid was the one who initiated was just icing on the cake.

So all good things must come to an end.

And one of these days Ocelot was going to actually develop a conscience and feel really, _really_ bad about all this.

**Author's Note:**

> (any and all comments will be forewarded to aireyv! i will either copy/paste their reply to me or they will reply on their own account! have a nice day!!! if you have any questions, just ask!!!!)


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